


cat and mouse

by tennou



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hot Tub, Lots of Sexual Innuendo, M/M, Mentions of politics, Post-Black Panther (2018), Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennou/pseuds/tennou
Summary: M'Baku was just trying to take a self care day, but of course T'Challa has to ruin that by showing up unannounced to talk politics. Well, M'Baku's not going to take that lying down (Or sitting, cuz he's in a small heated pool).





	cat and mouse

**Author's Note:**

> I loved Black Panther...and I love M'Baku and Winston Duke....
> 
> So for this fic I kind of tried to start it off as a character study on him? Idk I just really love him okay and he's Complicated! I'll probably write more fics about M'Challa soon but I just had to post something for them cuz they're great and have an interesting dynamic!
> 
> Also there's a (super) brief mention of one of M'Baku's men named N'Gamo--I just googled it and found it on a wiki cuz I needed an actual name for one of his men and I don't remember if any of them were named in the movie? But idk anything about the actual comics so just a heads up. 
> 
> Okay, enjoy reading!

One of his men crouched at the edge of the small, bubbling pool, dutifully tipping oil after oil into the water. Some were muscle relaxants; some were pain soothing agents; and some _—_ well, some were for something a little extra.  
  
M’Baku was aiming to be _very_  relaxed after this soak.  
  
“That’s enough,” he said to the man, who nodded his head once in response. He gathered his bottles and jars before making a quick, quiet exit, leaving M’Baku to stew alone.  
  
After the dramatic showdown at the palace just days earlier, he had been left feeling vindicated in his place as an effective Jabari leader and one of the strongest warriors in all of Wakanda, but also sore in places he hadn't even known he could be sore in. Thus, the luxurious bath. He didn't allow himself these luxuries often, but sometimes he deserved a little relaxation too. The Jabari didn't get to where they were with all work and no play, after all.  
  
He sank lower into the warm waters, sighing as the tightness in his muscles began to loosen.  
  
It had been a treat to swoop in and play hero. His pride and his people’s morale had benefited considerably. In his heart, he knew that was where he belonged: at the center of the crowd, all others looking up to him and waiting for him to lead. It was where he felt strongest, the most secure when he was at the head of the pack. And this had been true for the battle as well.  
  
At the end of the day, however, they were left with aching bodies and not much more of a clue about what kind of king they would be facing in the days ahead. Of course, T’Challa talked a big game. In fact, M’Baku would say T’Challa was quite skilled in that respect.  
  
_A black panther with a silver tongue_ , M’Baku thought wryly.  
  
But he still wasn't all that convinced the new king would bring about the change he so loved to preach about. It was nice to listen to, but he didn't fancy himself as someone who wasted time entertaining far-fetched fantasies. The Jabari were realistic. Their approach to conflict was methodical, logical, and grounded in the truths that stood before them. It was part of what made them so isolated, but also what made them strong. And M’Baku didn't foresee that changing with the arrival of a handsome young king. Especially since, following the days of the fateful battle, T’Challa hadn’t so much as set foot on Jabari land. M’Baku snorted.  
  
He’d expected as much.  
  
_Ah, well_.  
  
It was over now.  
  
In all honesty, the whole situation had been very dramatic, what with long-lost blood relatives and a heated fight for the throne, and the future of Wakanda hanging in the balance. M’Baku didn’t like to think of himself as a very showy man to begin with, and involving himself in such disputes was exhausting. He enjoyed the simpler, quieter things in life. A warm dinner, interesting conversation, and a public demonstration of his undeniable strength was enough for him. He only used force when it was absolutely necessary.  
  
It just so happened it was necessary often.  
  
And he did enjoy it. Every time.  
  
If he thought about it, he also quite enjoyed the young king’s admiration after the fact, his earnest gratitude _—_  
  
No. M’Baku shook his head, clearing his thoughts.  
  
No more thinking of the new reign. Of T’challa or any of his problems.  
  
He was taking time for himself.  
  
M’Baku closed his eyes.  
  
“Uh, Leader.”  
  
M’Baku opened his eyes.  
  
“I don't need anything else, N'gamo,” he growled.  
  
N’gamo bowed. His right hand man was a composed man by nature and M’Baku’s posturing usually wasn't enough to rattle him. But he could see something was making him nervous, and it was peeking through the calm facade. “Forgive me, Chief, but...you have a visitor.”  
  
M’Baku arched an eyebrow. “And I will see to them after I am finished. Now leave my sight before I make an example of you to the others of what happens when someone disturbs my small windows of luxury.”  
  
There was a split second where M’Baku thought he saw the man frown, but then he was backing out of the room before M’Baku could comment.  
  
“As you wish.”  
  
And with another bow, he was gone.  
  
M’Baku sighed and sank deeper into the pool, allowing the warm and bubbling water to rise up around him and relieve some of his aches and pains…  
  
“You certainly look comfortable.”  
  
M’Baku’s eyes shot open once more and he sat up, but didn't bother getting out of the pool. He _would_ be relaxing today, dammit.  
  
“King T’Challa,” M’Baku greeted. He stretched his arms out alongside the edges of the pool in a faux display of the calm he was not feeling. He paused for a moment, deliberating on what to say, but decided on, “What are you doing in my home.”  
  
A smile played T’Challa’s lips and M’Baku was sure he could see the other’s eyes flitting down at M’Baku’s less-than-ideal state. T’Challa, for his part, was dressed simply but regally in deep purple colors.  
  
Though his sandals looked hideous.  
  
“Things have been quite...hectic, to say the least,” T’Challa said, uncharacteristically edging around his point. “The past few days have been a whirlwind of political meetings and diplomacy _—"_  
  
“Things that bore me to no end, so please get on with what you are truly here for.”  
  
T’Challa’s eyes looked pointedly at M’Baku, a slight crease between his brows. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a moment to…collect yourself? Make yourself a bit more comfortable?”  
  
M’Baku bared his teeth in a grin.  
  
“I am quite comfortable as I am, King.”  
  
T’Challa’s eyes wandered lower once more to M’Baku’s clearly bare form before snapping back to his face. “Of course. Don’t let me intrude.”  
  
“I’m not.”  
  
That frown again. M’Baku fought back a smile.  
  
It was far too fun riling him up like this.  
  
“Well,” T’Challa began, folding his hands behind his back. “This situation is less than ideal for what I came to speak to you about. But if you don’t mind it, then I would be fine speaking to you like this as well.”  
  
M’Baku arched an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to give it up, was he? And there was almost an undercurrent of amusement to his words. Like there was more to what he was saying, why he was here.  
  
But _what_ …?  
  
“Here’s an idea,” M’Baku said with a grin. “Why don’t you join me?”  
  
That knocked the pseudo-smug look off of T’Challa’s face. He blinked at him, at a loss for a few moments.  
  
“Join you…?”  
  
M’Baku nodded at the bubbling water. “In the pool.” He leaned further back against the edge. “You said you’ve been running around to political meetings all week. You could use some relaxation for yourself as well, couldn’t you?” M’Baku cocked his head. “Unless it would make you uncomfortable?”  
  
T’Challa picked up on the challenge in his voice immediately.  
  
“Uncomfortable around one of my best warriors?” T’Challa asked, already pulling off his cutaway coat. “What kind of king would that make me?”  
  
M’Baku didn’t miss the subtle reminder of the other’s status, and the insistent urge to remind him of the Jabari’s isolationist position pricked at him. But far from offended, he was amused.  
  
So the young king could parry verbal strikes just as well as physical ones.  
  
T’Challa lowered himself into the pool, opposite M’Baku. He’d kept his boxers on, M’Baku noted, which he felt was a little unfair given M’Baku was completely bare and vulnerable, but he supposed he couldn’t expect the other to leave himself completely defenseless.  
  
Besides, it wasn’t as though M’Baku had anything to feel embarrassed about.  
  
“Impressive, isn’t it?”  
  
He could see T’Challa visibly tense.  
  
“To what are you referring?”  
  
M’Baku’s smile was just a hair vicious.  
  
“Isn’t it obvious?”  
  
T’Challa narrowed his eyes.  
  
“I’m going to need you to elaborate.”  
  
M’Baku’s tone was nonchalant as he replied, “The water. There’s a spring directly beneath.”  
  
T’Challa let out a sigh of relief at his words.  
  
“Yes,” he agreed, “it is quite impressive.” He let himself sink a little lower, relaxing. “Though I do believe mine is bigger.”  
  
M’Baku bit back a laugh.  
  
“Is it?”  
  
T’Challa’s face was neutral but his eyes were alight with amusement.  
  
“Oh, yes. Back at the palace. It’s quite pleasurable.”  
  
He couldn’t possibly be alluding to what M’Baku thought he was…right? M’Baku’s questioning look was met with raised brows, seemingly innocent of any innuendo.  
  
“...Right.” But he couldn’t resist the urge to add, “You’ll have to show me sometime.”  
  
T’Challa openly smiled at that. “You are always welcome at the imperial palace.” He cleared his throat then, seemingly bringing an end to their little game. “I had actually come today to speak to you about that.”  
  
This was turning out to be quite the interesting line of conversation.  
  
“You came all this way to tell me that you wanted me to come see your baths?”  
  
“No,” T’Challa said, an edge of exasperation sneaking into his tone. “I meant that I would like to see you around the palace more often. Perhaps by offering you a position on my council.”  
  
M’Baku’s eyebrows shot up. He couldn’t be serious, could he?  
  
“Me? Leader of the Jabari? A seat on your council?”  
  
“Yes, I _—"_  
  
He didn’t get the chance to finish, as he was cut off very suddenly by M’Baku’s loud peals of laughter.  
  
To his credit, he only looked mildly annoyed when M’Baku was finished.  
  
“Are you done?”  
  
A smirk still lingered at M’Baku’s lips but it widened at T’Challa directing his own words back at him.  
  
“Yes, I am. Thank you for that, by the way. My second-in-commands are some of the most brilliant tacticians and warriors in the land,” he announced. “But their humor can be so _dry_. I needed a good laugh.”  
  
T’Challa inched closer, seemingly unaware that he was even doing so.  
  
“I fail to see why this is such an outlandish request. You yourself said that the Black Panthers of the past have failed to reach out to the Jabari. I am offering you a lifeline. You would have direct access to the political center of Wakanda.”  
  
“But it is soon to be more than that, isn't it?” M’Baku asked, all traces of merriment slipping from his face. “Those white boys you run around with, causing trouble all over the world. The meeting you held at the United Nations.” He shook his head. “You are not just speaking for the good of Wakanda anymore. You are taking part in something that is bound to have repercussions for all of us.”  
  
T’Challa was almost shoulder to shoulder with him now. M’Baku stared down at him dubiously. T’Challa returned the look with his own steady gaze, not wavering for an instant.  
  
_Impressive confidence_ , M’Baku found his mind wandering despite himself.  
  
“You are projecting your fears onto something you don't know. Wakanda is the most advanced nation in the world. We will not fall prey to the machinations of global imperialism and western greed.”  
  
M’Baku scoffed. “As the Americans you so often enjoy the company of say: the bigger they are the harder they fall.”  
  
T’Challa’s gaze remained steady.  
  
“I would not let Wakanda fall.”  
  
Something about his voice made M’Baku (foolishly) want to believe him. There was a resolute look on his face, like he wanted M’Baku to believe too. Not just agree to go along with what he said, but truly believe in his ideas.  
  
In him.  
  
But T’Challa was good with his words, M’Baku reminded himself, and M'Baku was not some common fool.  
  
“Say what you'd like,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “We Jabari live in the mountains. Have always lived here. Alone. And we care for ourselves.” He settled back to rest his head on the edge of the pool. “That is how we have survived and how we will continue to survive.”  
  
There was a pause. M’Baku knew better than to assume T’Challa had given up, but still tried to enjoy the brief reprieve as best he could.  
  
“You survive, yes.”  
  
T’Challa’s voice was even. Easy confidence rolled off him in waves that M’Baku could sense even with his eyes closed.  
  
He tried to resist the pull.  
  
“But don't you want to thrive? Your people deserve more. You deserve more as Jabari Leader. Living in isolation was workable in the age of our ancestors. But now?” The intensity in T’Challa’s voice deepened, which almost didn't seem possible. “We must work together. We have to. If not for their sakes then for our own. We are stronger when we stand together.”  
  
M’Baku opened his eyes and studied T’Challa after his rousing little speech.  
  
“You truly believe that.” It was less of a question, more of a statement, but T’Challa nodded anyway.  
  
M’Baku sighed.  
  
“Is this your strategy, then? Hovering around my naked body and making impassioned speeches about how the fate of the world rests on peaceful interdependence?” M’Baku said with a pointed look. “I have to question your negotiation techniques if they require you to be close to naked to be effective.”  
  
T’Challa seemed to have nearly forgotten the situation they were in, but a quick glance downward assured he was very aware of their...unique circumstances.  
  
“I apologize,” he began to say, before stopping short. M’Baku tilted his head, waiting.  
  
There was a ghost of a smile lifting the corners of T’Challa’s lips.  
  
“I apologize…if I'm making you uncomfortable.” A teasing glint to his eyes. “I have been told I have that effect on people.”  
  
M’Baku raised an eyebrow, though he could already feel a grin spreading across his face and something warm stirring in his core.  
  
“The effect of your constant badgering and nagging, I presume?”  
  
T’Challa made his way backward to the opposite edge of the pool once more. “Is that what intimidates you, M’Baku?” He leaned down to slide the boxers off his legs beneath the water, eyes never leaving M’Baku’s. “I never would have guessed that a sharp tongue made you sweat.”  
  
“Please,” M’Baku scoffed, voice steady but eyes roaming as T’Challa discarded the undergarment behind him without another thought. “You are hardly the first to flaunt a pretty face in hopes of getting what you want.”  
  
T’Challa rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing as he leaned back against the pool’s edge.  
  
“I would hope that I am more than a pretty face to you, M’Baku.”  
  
M’Baku cocked his head as he weighed his potential responses in his head.  
  
He could continue prolonging this tantalizing yet seemingly endless little game they were playing.  
  
Or he could surge forward across the water to where T’Challa waited, grabbing ahold of his thighs, spreading them to make room for his own body as he reached for the other's lips.  
  
His body moved with hardly a second thought.  
  
Now to be clear, M’Baku was no stranger to mind games; to the mechanisms of politics. But sometimes it was best to go with your gut, follow instinct, and act on it.  
  
And by Hanuman, as T’Challa instantly responded and wrapped his legs around M’Baku’s hips, was he ever so glad he did.  
  
“Rest assured, King,” M’Baku murmured against the smooth skin of T’Challa’s neck. “You are much more than a pretty face.” He grinned. “I like your body too.”  
  
T’Challa shuddered, nails digging into M’Baku’s shoulders as M’Baku’s teeth sank into the tender flesh that connected his neck to his shoulders.  
  
“For a vegetarian you seem to be making quite a meal of me,” T’Challa managed between gasps.  
  
M’Baku rolled his hips up against T’Challa’s, ensuring he could feel his arousal.  
  
“And for a panther your claws seem more like kitten's play,” M’Baku returned. T’Challa’s breathy laugh turned into a moan as M’Baku wrapped a hand around his cock.  
  
“Should we get out of the water?” T’Challa asked as he leaned forward to take M’Baku’s bottom lip between his teeth.  
  
“I thought being in the pool didn't make you uncomfortable, though?”  
  
He could almost physically feel T’Challa rolling his eyes.  
  
“You are insufferable.”  
  
“Yet here you are,” M’Baku countered, “wrapped wide around me as your moans echo around my private chambers.”  
  
“I have to wonder just who has got the other wrapped around their finger."  
  
M’Baku could only groan in response as T’Challa reached between them to place his hand on his length, fingers tight as he stroked him up and down.  
  
“Don't entertain any falsities,” M’Baku grunted out as T’Challa continued distracting him with his clever fingers and quick mouth and sinuous rolls of his hips. “This means nothing for your proposed peace council.”  
  
“Of course,” T’Challa mouthed against his shoulder. M’Baku flinched, whether in pleasure or pain he didn't know, as T’Challa dug his nails into his skin once more with his free hand. “I would not have the opinions you hold on the throne influenced by the things you do in your bedroom.” He paused. “Or your pool.”  
  
M’Baku chuckled, pressing T’Challa closer against the wall of the pool. “For some reason I don’t believe you.”  
  
T’Challa simply leaned back and smiled, and M’Baku couldn't help but think it was a look reminiscent of the satisfied cat that always got the mouse in the end.  
  
T’Challa paused in his movements, much to M’Baku’s frustration.  
  
“Would you like to stop? Though, I can assure you,” he said with a sly smile, “I harbor only the most selfish intentions with you.”  
  
M’Baku narrowed his eyes and T’Challa stared back, unabashed though his cheeks were flushed and his eyes teary from pleasure; he looked the picture of arousal.  
  
“You really know how to make a man feel special, don’t you?”  
  
The smile returned, and M’Baku burned the image into his mind as the two resumed.  
  
Sometimes, he decided, it was fine to give in a little. Let the cat win this round. He would get him next time.  
  
And if there was one thing he was absolutely certain of, it was that there would be a next time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Kudos or comments if you did would be great! Lmk what y'all think.
> 
>  
> 
> [starfudge](http://starfudge.tumblr.com)


End file.
